


Medicine

by salineshots



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Comfort, M/M, Pining, mild whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-14 17:14:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16917003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salineshots/pseuds/salineshots
Summary: A gift forbajillionkittens, who prompted me for Lance, Shiro, and Keith bonding while taking care of one of them! Thank you for waiting so long for me to finish this, and I hope it's along the lines of what you wanted! Thanks to her for participating in the headcanon contest!





	Medicine

Lance found Shiro outside of the Garrison’s memorial hall. It was by chance that he had found him this far from the apartments this late in the evening, and at first he thought Shiro was only crying.

He had his back against the wall and his face in his hands. Lance quickened his steps toward him, and he saw the shaking in Shiro’s shoulders and heard the irregular hitching of his breath. When Lance put his hand on Shiro’s arm, it tore a flinch and a small cry out of him.

“Shiro?” Lance spoke gingerly and kept his touch light. “Shiro, it’s me. Lance.”

Shiro dropped his hands from his tear-wrecked eyes and stared. Every muscle in his body trembled like he might crumble apart. He finally whispered Lance’s name back to him, and he allowed Lance to pull him into a hug.

He had known it was bad, but he hadn’t fully appreciated what bad meant before he felt the solid weight of Shiro’s shoulders quaking under his hands. He had never felt the full-body sweats of Shiro’s terror. He had never heard him whimper in fear and confusion.

Lance didn’t know what else to do. He started singing “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.”

He lowered the two of them down slowly, kneeling with Shiro against the wall in the hallway, and he rubbed his broad back in long, patient strokes. Shiro cooperated, likely too stunned to do anything else, and allowed Lance to tuck his face against his smaller shoulder. Lance sang under his breath, and he forgave the tremble in his own voice. When he felt Shiro mouthing along with some of the words, letting them ground him, he knew he was finally doing something right.

“Shiro?”

Lance had never heard Keith’s voice sound like that, either: gentle and heightened with a sharp, tender worry. He looked over the top of Shiro’s head to see Keith trotting towards them and dropping to his knees. He kept singing quietly, afraid to break the fragile peace he was building for Shiro, but he adjusted his arms to allow Keith to slide his own around him. Keith spared Lance one look, brimming with the concern and pain that only love could create, and then nestled himself close against Shiro’s side.

“Takashi,” he whispered, and Lance stumbled over the verses and forgot the bridge. “Baby, I’m here. I’ve got you. Okay?”

The ‘okay’ was soft but deliberate, and Shiro nodded to answer him. He didn’t unclench his fingers from Lance’s shirt, but he was listening.

“Good. That’s good, baby. Do you want to hold my hand?”

Shiro nodded, and his shoulders twitched. Keith quickly took his left hand in his own, and he squeezed it when Shiro started to shudder.

“Keith, my arm,” Shiro choked.

“I know,” Keith whispered back. He stroked Shiro’s hair out of his face, gentle with the soft white strands of it. “I know. I’m so sorry, Shiro. It’s different now. It’s a lot to take in.”

“No–  _no_ , Keith.” Shiro was starting to hyperventilate, so Lance rubbed his back in circles and started singing again. He wasn’t sure when he had stopped. Shiro swallowed most of a sob, and when he leaned into Lance’s shoulder again, Lance and Keith glanced at each other in surprise. “My  _arm_. I hurt you.”

Helplessly, Keith shook his head. Lance saw him running his thumb over Shiro’s knuckles.

“No, baby. I’m okay. We’re all okay now. Remember where we are?”

Shiro blinked, sightless and frozen, and shook his head.

“We’re on Earth at the Garrison,” Keith reminded him gently. “We just had dinner. You liked the bread, so I snuck you some extra.”

Shiro nodded, slow and careful.

“You made Lance laugh and he choked on his water,” Shiro added quietly. Lance’s face flushed, and the stiffness dropped from Keith’s shoulders.

“Yeah, he did.”

Shiro’s mouth twitched. It was a poor stand-in for a laugh, but it was enough for Keith.

Lance had… guessed. But he hadn’t seen it before. He hadn’t witnessed Keith call him 'baby,’ hadn’t seen Shiro leave himself so open when he gazed back up at Keith, wanting a kiss. He hadn’t seen Keith’s fingers and palm fit so perfectly around Shiro’s jawline when he acquiesced. And he hadn’t known how gutting it would feel to see it from a foot and a half away.

He hadn’t been ready for Keith to patiently suggest, “Let’s go to bed.”

And he hadn’t been ready for Keith to turn his eyes toward him and catch what was probably the worst look on his face.

“Thank you,” Keith murmured to Lance, and he slipped Shiro’s arm over his shoulders to help him stand. Lance watched them walk down the hall, and it took him another minute to get off of the floor.

 

 

Lance didn’t call Shiro his hero anymore. This man wasn’t the silhouette on his favorite poster or the autograph next to it. He wasn’t a portrait over a grim headline - not anymore.

‘Hero’ wasn’t a strong enough word for what Shiro had done for them. He had suffered alone for years, either in galra captivity or trapped in the void inside Black. He had taken the responsibility of their safety upon himself when the five of them had been launched off of Earth and lost across the universe, an even more terrifying prospect when Lance remembered just how young Shiro was.

And ‘hero’ was too reverent and distant. Shiro was made of flesh and bone. His hair was white with the stress that was still making him sick. Shiro had dimples when he laughed. He sneezed loudly and sometimes got stomachaches. His handwriting was weirdly jagged, and he gave the kind of hugs that made people melt. He hated black coffee and got grouchy when he hadn’t shaved, no matter how good it looked on him.

And Keith? Lance had never hated Keith. That had taken him years to admit. He had envied Keith’s innate skills, as well as the support Shiro had given him during their Garrison years. He had gotten all of the attention that Lance had craved. There was envy and so much begrudging admiration, but never hate. Their rivalry had been one-sided the whole time, and for a while, Lance’s only solace had been in trying to get Keith to reciprocate.

And then Keith had given him that attention. Keith had put his trust in him. Keith accepted Lance as his right hand and his equal, and Lance admired him so much worse than before.

It was hard to call it jealousy. Lance didn’t want Keith and Shiro not to be together; they were in love on a scale that frightened Lance to think about. It was beautiful, and it wasn’t something Lance would ever want to interrupt. But seeing them together hurt bitterly, because it was also something he would only ever see from the outside.

He didn’t want either of them. He wanted both of them.

That thought hit him again when he entered the kitchen for breakfast. He had walked into the shared kitchen of the paladins’ apartment a few minutes after that glorious couple, and he was the only other one up, so he got to be the solo audience of just how affectionate they were in the morning.

Keith was manning the stove, and Shiro was right beside him, his hand on the small of Keith’s back and his mouth at his temple. Shiro smiled when he looked back and saw Lance in the doorway, and he got out an extra mug from the cabinet while Keith was busy making scrambled eggs.

“Morning. Want coffee?”

Lance answered Shiro with a, “Yes, please,” and stretched his arms over his head until his back popped. He could at least act natural while he considered how sweet and domestic this was, just the three of them in the kitchen. He couldn’t even savor it.

“Lance, you like salsa on your eggs, right?” Keith asked over his shoulder. He remembered that?

He was really trying not to savor it.

“Yeah.” Lance’s voice was still scratchy from sleep. That was all. He cleared his throat and made himself useful, getting out plates and forks and considering what he might make for himself.

“Sounds good.” Shiro poured three mugs of coffee and then leaned in to kiss Keith’s cheek. He must have been brazen that morning. “I think I’ll try them like that.”

Lance wished he didn’t have to watch. He wished his eyes could have moved away, but he was stuck staring when Keith turned his face toward Shiro’s, smiled, and planted a single soft kiss on his mouth. Keith’s cheeks were barely pink, and Lance could see the fan of his long eyelashes from across the small kitchen.

Keith’s gaze shifted aside and caught Lance staring. Lance snapped his eyes down to the plates in his hands, and he shuffled them uselessly, putting the bottom one on top just for a tactile distraction.

“Oh,” Shiro said quietly. “Lance, I thought you knew. Does it bother you?”

“I knew,” Lance muttered, trying to sound occupied with the plates. “It’s just a little PDA. It’s fine. I mean, it’s sweet. Or… you know.” Articulate as ever, Lance.

An oppressive moment of silence was broken only by the sizzle of eggs. Keith turned the stove off, placed a hand on Shiro’s chest, and said close to his ear, “Medicine.”

Lance heard Shiro groan and mumble back, “I  _will_.”

“You said that an hour ago. You’re on a schedule, baby.” Lance heard another tiny kiss. “Go.”

Shiro muttered something harmless and stepped away from Keith reluctantly. He only glanced at Lance’s feet as he walked past him to go back to his room.

Had Keith ever slept in his own room here?

Lance found himself staring at the short hallway to Keith’s door while he wondered about that. When the two of them were alone, Keith pulled him back into the present by placing himself in front of him.

“Yeah?” Lance all but squeaked.

“Thank you,” Keith told him. His tone was so quiet as to make his words breathy. “For last night.”

Lance felt the flush running up his neck. In the face of Keith’s earnest eyes and this gentle side of him, Lance was lost.

“Oh, no problem.”

That was supposed to be it, but Keith was still making eye contact. He licked his lip before talking again. It looked chapped.

“Would you help me look out for him?”

Lance stared back at him. “What?”

“He doesn’t– He doesn’t need to be babied,” Keith clarified, but he frowned, searching for the right words. “But I know you’ve noticed. I’ve seen how you watch him.”

“I don’t–”

“Yes,” Keith interrupted him, quiet and firm. “You do.” He didn’t look nearly satisfied enough by Lance’s stammering. “It’s how I used to look at him.”

Keith had to be tormenting him. Keith knew, and this was Lance’s punishment for wanting what he had.

“Why would you tell me that?” Lance asked anyway. His words cracked and fell below even Keith’s hushed tone.

Keith’s stare was difficult to decipher, but it wasn’t angry. Inconceivably, he said, “Maybe I don’t mind it.”

Lance must have taken too long to answer. His mouth hung open with no forthcoming words from the lump in his throat. Keith shouldn’t have had room to step even closer, but he managed it.

“I know what it feels like. To know him, to  _really_ know him, and love him, and want him, and see him with someone else.”

Had Keith experienced that twice at once? Lance didn’t know how he was surviving it. It was a struggle enough when he could taste the toothpaste on Keith’s breath.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lance got out.

“Lance, I trust you too much for you to lie to me,” Keith growled, and Lance’s patience snapped.

“What do you want me to say? It doesn’t even matter. I couldn’t get between you two if I wanted to, which I don’t. Why would you rub it in my face like this?”

“I’m not rubbing it in your face!” Keith found a scowl to work with. “You’re not listening!”

“Because you’re not making sense!”

“What’s going on?” Shiro’s calm question across the room made both of them snap to attention, and Lance turned his head so fast that his neck popped. Keith looked angry enough to speak, so Lance talked faster and louder.

“Keith’s saying he’s a better cook than me.”

Shiro raised his eyebrows. He turned a tiny item around in his fingers.

“I was not.” Keith looked at Lance through the corner of his eye, and he chewed on his next words. “I said we were  _both_ good.”

“I’m sure both of you are.” Shiro’s smile was confused, but he played along how he could. Keith passed him a mug of coffee when he joined them in the kitchen, and Shiro sipped at it, still holding the small item in his left hand. Keith watched him too closely, and Shiro avoided his eyes. Between his fingertips, Lance glimpsed the white tablet that Shiro was fighting to ignore. Keith sighed and set his hand on Shiro’s jaw, and his thumb stroked his morning stubble.

“Oh, crap.” Lance straightened his back and snapped his fingers. “Um, give me a minute. I’ll be right back.” He ducked under their odd glances and trotted out of the kitchen and back to his own room.

He really had forgotten about the little bottle on his nightstand. Ten milligrams, twice a day, and he’d almost missed his morning dose. He normally didn’t take it in front of anyone else, but this was a worthy cause. He didn’t hide the pill in his hand when he returned to the kitchen, and he served himself a glass of water and swallowed it conspicuously. He didn’t know what to make of the sad, subdued surprise on Shiro’s face, and it looked like Shiro didn’t either. Lance spoke up before either of them could.

“I ran out when we first left Earth.” He laughed, because it was almost funny now that it was in the past. “I had to wean myself off with what I had left in my pocket. Can’t stop taking it suddenly. It sucked.”

“Lance.” Shiro’s voice trailed off, and he really didn’t have to look at Lance with those sad puppy eyes. Shiro always looked sad when he found that someone on the team had been going through something alone. Of course Shiro wanted to help. All Lance could do was shrug.

“I hadn’t been off medication for a couple of years, so my anxiety was pretty bad out there.” Meeting Keith’s eyes felt like a confession by itself, but Lance had to say it. “I took a lot of that out on you, so I’m sorry.”

Keith had the same dumb puppy eyes. It was like Lance had actually hurt his feelings.

Lance cleared his throat and turned to the fridge. “Anyway. It’s a lot better now that I’m back on it. How about pancakes? We’ve got batter in here.” He gripped the door handle, but he froze when a pair of arms wrapped around his middle.

Keith was hugging him from behind. He knew that was Keith - a frame close to his own height, with strong arms and that plain soap smell in his hair - but Keith had never hugged him before. He hugged Shiro every chance he got, but Lance? Never. His cheek pressed comfortably into the side of Lance’s neck, and his quiet, “I forgive you,” made Lance’s heart trip.

“Oh,” Lance breathed. “Nice.”

Keith snorted at that particular bit of eloquence, and he didn’t pull away from Lance without a lingering squeeze to his arm.

“Don’t worry about pancakes,” Keith said. “Your eggs are gonna get cold.”

“You made some for me?”

“Well, yeah.” Keith returned to the stove and divided the eggs from the pan onto three plates. Shiro equipped each of them with some toast and picked up a jar of salsa to open, but not before Lance saw him pop the pill into his mouth and swallow it with some coffee. “Will you eat with us?”

Both of them were looking at him, smiling and waiting on his answer. Keith looked hopeful, and Shiro even looked amused. Lance tried to smile back as naturally.

“Yeah, that sounds nice.”

Keith’s face was adorable when his eyes went soft. Lance wasn’t ready for that look to be directed towards him. When Keith went back to getting the plates ready, Shiro crossed the small kitchen to get to the fridge.

Lance started to move aside for him, but Shiro caught him with a gentle hand on the back of his shoulder. His fingers didn’t clasp the top of his shoulder, and he didn’t slide his hand further down Lance’s back, but the gesture was somewhere in between: friendly, but just a bit more tender than expected.

These two would have to stop throwing curveballs at Lance at some point in the day. He hadn’t even recovered from the hug yet.

“Thank you,” Shiro whispered. Lance nodded dumbly and struggled not to get lost in those dark eyes. It was always a privilege, getting to talk to Shiro close enough to see the flecks of grey around his pupils.

“No problem. I mean, I know the adjustment period sucks - new meds make you tired and sick - but I’m here, you know, if you need to talk to someone.”

Shiro regarded him warmly. The butterflies in Lance’s stomach made it hard for him to stay still, and the way Shiro brushed his hand over Lance’s arm only made it worse. Then Shiro was reaching into the fridge and taking out the coffee creamer.

“Keith was right,” Shiro intoned. “You are sweet.”

Lance distantly knew his mouth was hanging open.

“What?” His voice creaked.

“How much cream do you like in your coffee?” Shiro continued cheerfully, and Lance gaped at his back when he left him by the fridge. Keith glanced over his shoulder at Lance, smiled with his eyes, and looked back down at the plates. A warm flush ran up Lance’s neck.

“ _What_?”


End file.
